Moving forward, ringing bells

I finished radiation today! Thirty-three days, totaling over 60 miles of walking (to get there and back each day–radiation was actually given with me flat on my stomach, not walking). Arriving home today, I found my first blister and hopefully that won’t burst open. The site is very red and may worsen over the next week, but it should then heal to its original appearance, although a darker shade of skin is possible. The scans to determine if treatment is successful are tentatively slated for July 1, with results on July 3. This may change due to holiday schedules, but it is the current plan. After leaving my final radiation treatment, I rang the bell and it wasn’t overly satisfying. Ringing bells is always fun, but I didn’t feel connected to it as a milestone. I guess I’m just on the road, moving forward, and there are no milestones, just motion–and I’m okay with that.

Yesterday, I managed to talk my way into chemo cycle 12. I say “talk my way into” because I wasn’t actually meeting the blood count standards that they wanted. Using my mad debate skills, I finally found an argument that convinced them it was okay: this cycle also lacks doxorubicin (the very mean drug) and the two drugs I would be getting aren’t particularly damaging to platelets. Citing my tenth cycle (which was the same drugs) as evidence that my body withstood things rather well, I received the green light after a phone call for a second opinion. The chemo works best when the cycles are closer together and at 3 weeks and 2 days, I was done waiting. We’ll see soon enough whether or not I was wise to push my body.

There are two studies that form the foundation of my treatment plan, one using 14 chemo cycles and one using 17. The 14 is more recent and features the doses closer together (resulting in the best outcomes). To achieve that 14 cycles in a fairly close schedule, I only have one more of each treatment type. This is completely reasonable. My oncologist also believes that I can hit all 17, but does acknowledge that most patients’ bodies can’t. I’m excited to almost be at 14 (what I would consider a full treatment) and hopeful that I can reach 17 (what I would consider the best treatment).

Overall, I still have some mentally bad days, but they are certainly outnumbered by the good. I’m still processing the bad days so I’ll have to explain them later.

On the more entertaining side of things, after a five-month hiatus, I finally shaved! The hair was peach fuzz that just kept growing out in a goatee style. My mouth started to actually resemble a goat’s mouth with the long, white fur, so it had to be removed. My eyebrows are returning in the same fashion as the goatee, but I won’t be shaving them because I’m just glad there’s something there. Continuing the trend, my eyelashes are growing back in. They look normal, albeit still quite short. I first noticed their return when I saw little globs of guck. Yep, the first thing they did was collect garbage. Nose hair is also returning, which has greatly reduced how often I need to blow my nose (and the urgency of the action). Having the doxorubicin taken out of my chemo regimen during radiation is most likely the reason for all this hair growth, although my arms and legs are still glossy bare.